Protect the One You Love
by Erlkonig
Summary: With a few cryptic comments and a whole lot of angst, Jaime dramatically left Winterfell to return to King's Landing. Brienne works up the resolve to follow him. Post S8E4. I'm in a rage at the episode's ending. I have so many feelings, and here are some of them. Brienne catches Jaime in chapter 3.
1. Brienne I

_How could he go back?_

Brienne sat by the dying fire, staring at the glowing logs, still wearing the cloak she had worn in the courtyard. Underneath the cloak, she wore nothing but her sleeping robe. She had thrown on her cloak and hurried outside when she woke to find the room empty. When she found him saddling his horse, and he had turned away from her, unable to meet her gaze, until she took his face in her hands. When he had described his unspeakable crimes with his eyes filled with unspeakable sorrow. When he declared himself to be just like _her_, riding away without a backwards glance.

She was heartbroken.

She remembered the first time she had told him good-bye. "Good-bye, Ser Jaime," in the halls of Harrenhal. She had not expected to see him again. She had not expected to survive the week. He had stared at her in shock, a long, drawn gaze. She remembered leaving Riverrun in a canoe and turning back to see Jaime looking after her. He couldn't look away then, but he could barely look at her now.

_What changed between us?_

She thought about the quiet, hopeful days they had spent together since the terrible Battle of Winterfell. He had seemed content to be with her anyplace and follow her anywhere, since the night that he had followed her to her room. The night the wine had loosened his words, lowering his defenses and letting his jealousy show. The same wine that made her bold enough, and brave enough, to give voice to his feelings and hers.

The fire flickered out, and still Brienne remained in the same spot, unable to move.

"She's hateful, and so am I," he'd said, and just like that he was gone. That wasn't the Jaime she knew. That wasn't the man who had leaped into a pit, unarmed, to shield her from a bear with his own body. That wasn't the man who had given her armor and his own family sword, his oath to Catelyn, his honor, and his trust. That wasn't the man who had knighted her. The words were soft on his tongue and full of love, the same way he whispered her name when he'd made love to her, and every night since.

"You would fight beside him?" "I would."

They were attuned to each other, as they had been from the start, a waltz through danger and joy. When they were prisoners, she had stabbed his steak as he struggled to carve it with one hand. He had gently placed his hand over hers as she raised her dinner knife, attentive to her even as he negotiated for his life. Now, at last they were fighting on the same side and rejoicing in the same victory. They had moved in unison on the battlefield, always knowing where the other stood. She could feel the shuffle of his footsteps, the arc of his sword, and the pulse of his breathing. After the battle, he had placed his hand over hers, uncovering her goblet with the same gentle caress, and she had untied his shirt with the same irritation. They were Warrior and Maiden, fire and ice, Oathkeeper and Widow's Wail, two halves of the same whole.

"Nothing is more hateful than failing to protect the one you love."

_I've never been one to give up. Not when all the world said I couldn't be a knight. Not when I fought a bear, tripping over a horrid gown with naught but a wooden sword to defend myself. Not when Arya and Sansa refused my service. Not when I watched Renly stabbed by an otherworldly shadow before my own eyes. Never. I couldn't save Renly, but I can still save Jaime._

"In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave."

Brienne stood up from her chair. The sky was barely turning light outside. She hurriedly wrote a scroll to Lady Sansa and another to Podrick. She packed her bags with food and coin, then put on her armor. She buckled Oathkeeper to her side, pausing with her hand on the lion-shaped handle. "I love that bloody idiot, and I'm going to find him," she declared to the room. Brienne galloped away, determined to overtake Jaime and be at his side. Even if he loved Cersei to the bitter end.

_He'll need my fighting skill where he's going._


	2. Jaime I

Jaime spurred his horse into a gallop. Brienne would not be far behind. He had hoped to escape under the cover of darkness to buy himself a few more hours, but somehow she had known. He had cruelly attacked her with his loyalty to Cersei, trying to wound her so deeply that she wouldn't follow him. It would only buy him an hour or two. She was the toughest, bravest, and most stubborn knight he knew.

_How had she woken up?_

Jaime clenched his fist and hunched his shoulders as warmth and acid rose from the pit of his stomach into his throat. Of course she had known. She was as attuned to him as to her own beating heart. Like a lover. More than his own twin. Or perhaps the Gods had interfered to rouse her. Despite himself, he laughed bitterly. A message from the gods themselves.

"Ser Jaime Lannister has decided to stay in Winterfell."

For a brief, beautiful month, he had dreamed of a new life, away from King's Landing and away from his complicated past. He was a guest of Lady Sansa, and Brienne was her sworn protector. They were safe, far away from the fighting and from those who would want him dead. The North had grown on him, and he allowed himself to feel happy.

Then the illusion shattered. First came Bronn with the crossbow aimed at his heart. Then one day, he came upon Brienne and Lady Sansa deep in conversation, with frowns on their faces and lines in their brow, and he learned about the ambush. The Golden company was _here_. Cersei's forces were _here_.

_I should have known better than to ever think I could escape from her._

He dismounted by a stream to let his horse drink, but soon he was riding hard again. He had to hurry. His horse was the finest that money could buy, and he was lighter than Brienne, but she was stubborn. He couldn't let her catch him. It was well past nightfall before he led his horse into the underbrush to set up camp. Not daring to start a fire, he bundled his cloak around his body and fell into a fitful sleep.

He dreamed of a warm room and a roaring fire. Brienne sat next to the fireplace, dressed in her sleeping robe. He sat next to her and took her face in his hand. "I love you," he told her. "I have to make the world safe for you." She gazed back at him with brimming eyes filled with love, and she kissed him. He wrapped his arms around her and laid his head against her shoulder, breathing in the scent of her. He woke up alone in the dark with tears on his face.

The first birds were chirping, and he could start to see shadows around him. He had slept too long. He quickly saddled his horse and set out. Although no one was around to hear him, he whispered an oath into the wind.

"I'll come back for you, if you'll have me."


	3. Jaime II

Jaime guessed that he was a week out from King's Landing, when the growing darkness forced him to make camp for the night. As the days passed uneventfully, he had relaxed his precautions, allowing himself to buy food and light fires. He saddled in the morning and rode until dark, stopping three times to let his horse rest and drink. He slept off the trail in the underbrush and woke with tears in the morning.

Tonight he sat next to a small fire with a rabbit spitted and roasting. Suddenly, he heard voices in the distance. Jaime shot to his feet, hurriedly throwing dirt on the fire. The voices were nearby. He drew Widow's Wail and darted into the trees. Behind him, he heard a dog barking and a man yelling "That way!" He cursed under his breath and ran.

A hound came bursting through the trees, followed by three soldiers on horses. He couldn't outrun them. He faced them, breathing hard and with his sword raised in his left hand. Two of the horses surrounded him while one man dismounted.

"What have we here?" The man lifted a lantern to Jaime's face. "Aw I know you. You're the Kingslayer. The queen's put a bounty on your head." The man grinned at Jaime. "You'll make me a rich man."

"Or you could take me alive." Jaime's heart hammered in his chest. "I've fought the undead to protect our queen, and now I am returning to serve her. She can behead me herself if she sees fit." If he kept talking, he might have a chance. "How valuable would I be to her highness alive?"

"Piss off! Queen Cersei warned us about your smooth tongue and your fake promises. I'm not risking leaving you alive so you can kill me in my sleep." The man raised his sword, prepared to swing at Jaime's head.

Jaime raised his weapon. _I'm sorry, Brienne. In the end I couldn't protect you or return to you. But at least with me dead, Cersei will leave you alone._

As the soldier swung his sword, Jaime imagined Brienne sprinting through the brush, her sword lifted, her face dirty and sweaty. She would be his last thought before he died. That was the Brienne he knew, determined and enduring. The leaves crackled under her footsteps.

_Visions don't crackle._

The soldier turned with a start, just as Oathkeeper pierced through his armor. He screamed in surprise as he crumpled onto the ground. Jaime spun around and launched himself at another soldier, cutting the horse's legs. The horse crashed to the ground, and the soldier tumbled with it. Jaime sliced off the soldier's head. To his side, he heard the third soldier fall.

Jaime sheathed his sword and turned towards Brienne. She was approaching fast, looking enraged. Jaime backed up against a tree and raised his arm to shield his face. Brienne knocked his arm aside, grabbed his other arm, and pinned them to the tree. Her eyes glittered as she glared at him.

Jaime stared at her for a long moment, blanking on what to say. At last, his mouth opened and the first words that came to mind tumbled out. "Oh Gods, Brienne, I. . . ." He abruptly closed his mouth. _I missed you so much. I love you._ If he said it she would never leave.

"Care to explain yourself?" She demanded coldly, shoving him harder into the tree.

"I must get back to Cersei," he mumbled. He couldn't let Brienne walk into King's Landing, not after the way Cersei had looked at her at Joffrey's wedding, all those years ago. Not after she had seen them talking in the Dragonpit. "We came into the world together. . . ."

"I'm coming with you!" Brienne angrily interrupted. "You'd be dead if I hadn't found you! King's Landing is a dangerous place for you, and I'll protect you." Her eyes locked onto his, steely and determined.

_No. She'll kill her. She has to turn back. _"Brienne, there's no place for you there. I love Cersei, and I always have." He spoke desperately, willing her to believe him. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear looking into her face. "I don't love you. I only wanted to see what it was like, sleeping with someone as hideous and mannish as you." His last words came out in a sob. He held his breath, trying to hold back his tears. _Please believe me._

After a long silence, he felt her lips press gently against his. Unable to resist, he hungrily kissed her back. After a few seconds, she withdrew, and he leaned his head forward after her, desperate to prolong the kiss. He hung his head, defeated.

"You're bloody shit at lying," she finally said. But when he opened his eyes, her expression was gentle. "I swore to protect Renly, knowing that he would never love me. And I will protect you as long as you live, whether you love me or not. I swear it." She released his arms, and he slumped to the ground. "Now stay," she commanded as she turned to find her horse.

"Brienne?" Jaime called after her. "How did you catch up to me?"

"I swapped for a fresh horse in every town. I plan ahead, unlike you." She snarled. "And I traveled into the night. I have a spare hand to hold a lantern, unlike you."

Jaime smiled then, and he rose and followed her to the camp. "You're the most stubborn person I've ever met," he muttered, "but I'm glad you're here."

"And you're a bloody idiot," she replied, but she let him lean against her as they went to sleep.


	4. Brienne II

The combined forces of the Unsullied and the North were visible from five miles out. Brienne rode into camp with Jaime behind her, to the greetings of the soldiers. Strangely, they didn't seem surprised to see her.

A mounted guard approached them. "Queen Danaerys has been expecting you," he said. "Please follow me."

Brienne exchanged a confused glance with Jaime as they followed the guard to Danaerys's tent. "Sers Brienne and Jaime," the guard formally announced.

"My queen." Brienne bowed and heard Jaime do the same.

"I received word from Lady Sansa that you were on your way here," Danaerys announced, then turned to address Jaime. "She warned me that you may come to your sister's aid."

Brienne tensed. "My queen," she began, but Danaerys held up a hand to stop her.

"It's all right," she said. "You would have sneaked into the city if you meant to betray me. Instead you have ridden into camp, as he assured me you would."

_He?_ Brienne wondered. Danaerys turned and motioned behind her. Tyrion stepped out of the shadows, and behind him, Podrick, his expression stern but his eyes twinkling. Brienne gaped at him.

Podrick answered the unspoken question. "I took a ship here. I knew you would turn up eventually, and I could risk being seen."

Brienne frowned. "What are you doing here? I left you in Winterfell, where it's safe," she protested.

"As Ser Jaime did," Podrick replied. "But there you are, and here I am."

"Have you ever run away from a fight?" Jaime helpfully added. Brienne glared at him. "Podrick is right," he continued. "I am here to help you win the war. I will talk to Cersei and ask her to surrender."

"She won't surrender," Tyrion said sadly. "I begged her, for the sake of her unborn child. She refused."

"I will not let an experienced commander such as yourself walk into certain death," Danaerys said. "Cersei executed Missandei. Were it not for our armies, she would have killed Tyrion. She will not hesitate to kill you if you speak to her alone."

"She might listen to me," Jaime said urgently. "The child growing in her," he paused and took a deep breath. Brienne saw Tyrion wince, and suddenly she knew what Jaime was about to say. "That child is mine."

Silence fell over the tent. Danaerys looked shocked, while Podrick looked cautiously at Brienne. Jaime's eyes flickered towards her, then flickered back to the ground. In a shaky voice, he continued speaking.

"She had the chance to kill me when I rode north, but she stayed her hand. There's a chance she might still listen to me."

"I have an idea," Tyrion said slowly. "You can sneak into the Keep through the tunnels. That will buy you a few minutes to speak with our sister. The tunnels are dark and narrow, so you will not be outnumbered. Take a handful of our soldiers with you. Kill the guards quietly and take their armor. That should get you into the keep."

He took a swig out of a goblet. "Once inside, you will contend with Euron, Clegane, and the queensguard, but not the army. Occupy them, and she will be alone. You must take a small group of the best fighters to avoid being seen and setting off the alarm."

_It just might work. _Brienne glanced at Podrick, and he nodded firmly. "Podrick and I will accompany Ser Jaime into the Keep," she said. "I am one of the few who can face Gregor Clegane in combat." She didn't look at Jaime, and he knew better than to protest.

"Very well," Danaerys said. "We attack in the morning. As with the Night King, our armies are merely a distraction. The real battle will be in your hands. Vanquish Cersei, and the war will end."


	5. Arya

Arya parted amicably from the Hound, after sneaking him into the Keep. As amicably as possible for the two of them, at least. "I hope you find your unfinished business," she had said.

"Fuck off," he had replied, but with an affectionate smile. And they had parted.

Arya slipped from shadow to shadow, all the way to the throne room. It wasn't hard to stay hidden. The soldiers were out on the walls manning the Scorpions, or on the fields clashing with the Targaryen and Northern forces. The servants were huddled in their quarters, leaving the halls comfortingly quiet. Two guards stood posted outside the throne room's doors. Arya regarded them cautiously, plotting how to kill them both without alerting Cersei inside.

Arya tensed as she heard a creak. She watched as a small section of solid wall slid back to reveal a small passageway. Jaime Lannister cautiously appeared from the passageway. Arya reached for her dagger. _Has he come to fight for Cersei?_ She relaxed her grip as she saw Brienne and Podrick behind him.

Arya grimaced as the guards spotted them and shouted out an alarm. _Stupid, impulsive Jaime,_ she thought. In seconds, Jaime had jumped out and killed both guards. She watched them count to three, then rush into the throne room. Arya crept closer. She could hear voices, but couldn't make out the words. She crept up to the door.

"Take my brother alive, but kill the other two," she heard Cersei's command. Then the boots of half a dozen or so queensguard, followed by heavy, thudding footsteps that could only be the Mountain. Arya drew her dagger, prepared to leap into the fight.

Footsteps were echoing down the hallway. Arya quickly hid behind a column and held her breath. She looked up to see the Hound approach, then disappear into the throne room. "Brother, time to put you out of your misery," she heard his voice say darkly.

Suddenly, an explosion of clanging and grunting erupted from the room. Arya leaped through the door with her dagger drawn. She glanced quickly over the battle. The Hound and the Mountain were furiously clashing, oblivious to the fighting around them. Cersei was slipping away through a door in the back of the room, with Jaime in pursuit. _The last name on my list._ Arya ran to follow them, when -

"AAURRGHHH!" The Hound's scream echoed around the room.

Despite herself, Arya glanced over her shoulder to see him lying on his back with blood pooling around him. The Mountain was nearly on top of him, pushing down with his sword in both hands. The Hound was pushing back with all his strength as the Mountain, sickly green and emotionless, bore down with all his weight. His sword was inches from the Hound's face and getting closer.

Cersei's robes swished through the doorway and out of sight._ Cersei, Cersei, Cersei. _The last name on her list. The name that she had repeated thousands of times. The hated mastermind who had destroyed Arya's family and caused the slaughter of so many of her friends. Her purpose, her training, and the reason for her suffering, all within her grasp.

She lifted her dagger, took two running steps, and plunged her dagger. . . .

. . . into the Mountain's neck and out through his throat.

He gave a surprised gurgle, then the sword slipped from his hands. The Hound let out a gasp as the Mountain fell on top of him, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He lay still, panting.

"Are you alive?" Arya asked calmly.

The Hound kicked his brother's body off him and sat up. "Bloody fucker," he grumbled. "Don't expect me to thank you."

"You're bleeding," Arya said.

The Hound looked himself over. "Just a cut in my leg," he growled. "I'm bruised, but I'll live." His eyes softened as he looked at Arya. "I'm sorry," he said grudgingly. "That was your chance to cross Cersei off your list."

"It's all right," she answered, with a hint of a smile. "I fight for the living."


	6. Brienne III

The tunnels were a tight fit for a warrior Brienne's size, made especially hard by the swords on either side of her waist. She heard Jaime quietly counting turns ahead of her. She too ran through Tyrion's directions in her mind, confirming their path: _n__ext a right, then the ladder. _The tunnels were growing wider until at last, they stopped under a stone arch. She watched Jaime's mouth move as he counted the bricks and pushed. The stone scraped loudly as it slid aside.

Light streamed into the tunnel.

Brienne heard Jaime give a small, exasperated sigh a second before a guard's yell echoed down the hall. She rushed after Jaime through the opening with Podrick close behind. A twitching guard lay on the ground before her, and Jaime was already cutting down a second guard. She drew her sword and stepped to the right of the throne room's door, with Jaime to the left.

Everyone inside would be expecting them now. Brienne glanced back at Podrick, then across to Jaime. She nodded slightly and mouthed the words _one, two, three._ They burst into the room.

Cersei stood facing them with Euron and the Mountain behind her, framed by the window. To the front of her stood half a dozen knights of her queensguard. Her glittering eyes flickered to Brienne, and her mouth curled into a sneer. "Hello, my stupid brother," she said to Jaime.

"Cersei," Jaime said tensely. "I'm begging you to surrender. No harm will come to you, I swear it on my life."

"Looks like you're outnumbered," Cersei replied. "Why should I surrender to you?"

"Danaerys and the Northern soldiers are storming the city as we speak. Even if you kill us, they'll kill you. I'm here to save you. I'll make them promise not to harm you. We can live in the countryside and raise our child together."

Euron shifted behind Cersei as she laughed, "And what does _she_ have to say about that?" Brienne kept her expression blank as Cersei turned to face her. "You love him," she said, and this time it was not a question. She turned back to Jaime, and now there was a bitter edge to her voice. "I'll never understand how you came to prefer that lumbering beast of a woman."

She sensed rather than saw Jaime stiffen. Any other time he would have defended her, had the stakes not been so high. Instead, he pleaded, "Cersei, please, you don't have to die. We're not here to fight you."

Cersei waited a long moment, gazing at them with an amused expression. Brienne was no silver-tongued diplomat, but even she could see Cersei would not back down. _He never had a chance,_ she realized.

"Take my brother alive, but kill the other two!" Cersei's voice rang out. The queensguard fanned out to surround them, three on each side, followed by the Mountain, then a beat later, Euron.

Brienne took a step forward, planting herself between the Mountain and Jaime. He towered unnervingly over her by half a foot. Usually she was the one towering over her opponents. Brienne kept her gaze fixed on him, but her mind was racing. _Six guards plus Euron. . . ._

Suddenly, new footsteps entered into the throne room. Brienne didn't turn around - she knew not to turn her back on an enemy, even as the guards all turned to look at the newcomer. Her heart sunk further. _W__e're truly surrounded. _

Then, miraculously, she heard the Hound's bitter voice. "Brother, time to put you out of your misery." His heavy footsteps pounded towards them. Brienne's eyes met Jaime's as she jerked her head at Cersei, and her voice said "Podrick get Euron."

She leaped to her right with her sword extended, driving it into a distracted guard, as the Hound barreled past her. The other two guards on that side spun to face her, then lunged at her. She raised her sword in her right arm to block the first guard, while her left hand drew a second sword from her belt, slashing it across the second guard's stomach. The first guard glanced down at her left-hand sword in surprise, just enough time Brienne to ram into him with her shoulder. He staggered back, and she slashed Oathkeeper downwards across his chest.

The three guards on the left were upon her. She raised both swords and took a deep breath as they collided.

She was stronger than any one of them, she thought, as she blocked first a guard on her right, then her left. The third guard, just a hair slower than the other two, charged straight at her with his sword raised. _I'm stronger than them._ She pushed hard with both arms, pushing both guards back as she took a quick step left. The third guard's sword connected with her right side, carving out a shallow cut, but briefly shielding her from the guard to her right. She swept her right arm under it, cutting through his armor with her Valyrian steel blade. Her left arm was already raising to block the left guard's next strike.

The last two guards were excellent fighters. Brienne parried their attacks, desperately searching for a chance to strike, but none came. They were fast, careful, and skilled at defense, and there were two of them. It was all she could do to keep up, Brienne thought with a grimace. Their blows were strong, and her arms were burning. She raised her right arm to block another forceful attack.

As the guard brought his sword down on hers, hard, she let Oathkeeper fall from her loose grip. Startled by the sudden lack of resistance, the guard staggered. Faster than breathing, Brienne whipped a dagger from her belt and plunged it into his side. The guard fell with the dagger still in his body. Brienne turned and gripped her remaining sword with both hands, with her full attention on the last remaining guard. He backed away a step. She charged at him, neatly knocking his sword from his hand and stabbing him through the stomach.

Breathing heavily, she reached down to pick up Oathkeeper. She examined her injuries on her side, and on her arms and legs. They were bloody but shallow. The room was silent around her. The Hound was there, looking bruised and battered, and Arya, whom she hadn't noticed entering. The Mountain was dead on the floor. Podrick was nowhere to be seen. Jaime was nowhere to be seen.

Arya was watching her with an odd, almost proud expression. "Where did you learn to fight with your left hand?"

"I trained with with Ser Jaime," Brienne answered. _I hope he's still alive._

****** JBJBJBJBJBJB ******

**Author's Notes:**

Why is our favorite Lady Ser a dual-wielder now? Actually, it's because I didn't plan ahead!

Yesterday I was writing Arya's chapter and not really thinking carefully about the other characters' fight scenes. All Arya has to do is make a hard choice and deliver a hard strike. The details of the other fights can wait another day, or so I thought. (I'm not good with fight scenes. I wish I had Astolat's grasp of weapons, techniques, and strategy!)

So I'm thinking, how many opponents should Brienne take down? It must be enough to sound impressive, but not an impossible number. Her scuffle with the three Stark guys was a pretty easy fight for her. Twelve is too many, and it would clutter the throne room, but six is a perfect number. I bet she can handle six.

I hit "publish", and later it occurs to me that the Stark guys were untrained, hapless villagers (albeit evil ones), unlike the highly skilled knights of the queensguard. Welp!

So I'm laying in bed trying to envision this battle scene, between Brienne and six armored guards, going _how is this going to work?_ Every way I try it in my mind's eye, I see the remaining guards swarming her. Is she faster than them? Not really, she's not _slow _by any means, but she's more powerful than fast. Does she lead them into a tight space to fight them one-on-one? Maybe someone comes to her aid. But I already wrote Arya and the Hound chilling, having a chat, so not them. Maybe Pod? Jealously, I don't want anyone except Jaime saving her and fighting back-to-back with her.

What can I do to give her the edge? Then I remember I used to play Pirates in Love, a visual novel where the captain was a dual-wielding swordsman. I'll take it. I bet she'd be training for it anyway. She fought Arya, who's ambidextrous with a dagger, and she watched Jaime struggle to learn his left hand. She's probably concluded that it's a useful skill on her own. At this point she's not particularly good at it, which is why she does most of her kills with her right hand.


	7. Euron

"We can live in the countryside and raise our child together."

The words echoed in Euron's head. _Raise our child together. Our child. Our child. _He took a shuddering breath. Dimly, he heard Cersei's voice answering, but he couldn't understand her words. All he could hear was Jaime's damning accusation. _Our child. _Euron wished he could doubt the truth of Jaime's words, but they were clear as crystal and sharp as dragonglass. _How could I have missed it? I knew they were fucking!_

He couldn't see or think. Faintly, Cersei's commands filtered through the fog in his head. "Take my brother alive, but kill the other two!" Still lost in his whirling thoughts, he mechanically followed the Mountain toward Jaime, Brienne, and Podrick, standing before Cersei with their swords raised. And still he didn't blink or wonder as the Hound rushed into the room, or as the queensguard leaped into a flurry of swords and clanking armor.

It was only when Podrick came charging at him that he finally raised his ornamented axe, barely in time to block the first strike.

As he fought automatically, his wisps of thought joined together. _Our child. _He remembered those same words upon Cersei's silver tongue. "One day our child shall rule them all," she had said, holding his face in her hands. Warm joy had flowed through his body, followed by an aching concern that filled him from throat to gut. He would do anything to protect Cersei and their child. He would fight Danaerys and her dragons, the army of the North, the whole of Westeros, for their child.

Anger flooded in him, an incoherent rage crowding out all sadness. _I'm going to kill that fucking cunt! _Whirling away from Podrick, he scanned the room for Cersei. She was nowhere to be seen. He sprinted for the door and into the hall with Podrick on his heels. She wasn't in the hall.

_I'm going to die here,_ he realized. _Far away from home, my line dying out, my people bleeding in her streets._ His fighting spirit sputtered out. He gave a last huge swing of his axe and knocked Podrick's sword aside. "FUCK HER!" Euron screamed, then jumped back, out of striking range. "I surrender!" He yelled with his arms up, left hand open and flat, right hand holding his axe up harmlessly.

"You. . . what?" Podrick stuttered in surprise, but quickly recovered. He pointed his sword at Euron's throat and ordered, "Drop your weapon!"

"Listen to my conditions." Euron panted, breathing hard. "Escort me to Danaerys. Protect me from her forces. I'll order my ships to withdraw."

"Why?" Podrick narrowed his eyes. "Is this a trick?"

"No!" Euron said quickly. "I will not die _here_, fighting for _her._" He grimaced as he spat the word out. "I will not spill the blood of my people to protect her brother's bastard growing in her belly."

A dawning recognition filled Podrick's expression before returning to stony suspicion. "Why should I trust you?" He asked warily.

"The ships will listen to me. The Golden Company will listen. They'll retreat if I command it. It will save the lives of your people and mine." Euron thought, then added, "You can march me out with your sword at my throat."

"Or your soldiers will kill me the second I walk out with you." Podrick said.

"Then you can quickly cut my throat. You'll die, and I'll die too." He swallowed, then opened his right fist, letting his axe fall to the ground. "That's not worse than what you expected today. You can save your army and the people of the Keep."

Podrick regarded him for a long moment. Then he said, "Fine. Let me tie you up, then we'll go."

Euron waited while Podrick tied his wrists tightly together, then he marched out of the keep. He yelled for his commanders to stop the fighting. Word spread through the Golden Company, and the fighting quieted around them. He was led to a small tent, Podrick's sword still at his back, Drogon curled outside. Danaerys demanded assurance that the Iron Fleet would not return for a surprise ambush. Euron offered to send his soldiers and ships ahead while he remained in captivity, to set sail after the rest of his forces returned to the Iron Islands.

"Your dragon will be safe," Euron urged Danaerys.

Danaerys agreed to allow his forces to withdraw, but demanded that Euron be given to Yara as a prisoner. Then, Jon Snow gave his word no harm would come to him in captivity. "I will make Yara swear it," he promised. "Theon died bravely fighting for the living. Perhaps you can redeem yourself as well."

They led Euron away in chains. His shoulders sagged, and his face was grim, but a lightness stirred within him.

He was going home.

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**Author's Notes:**

This chapter underwent a huge revision. I originally had it written from Podrick's POV, with a plot of Podrick dueling and killing Euron. I know lots of people were hoping Euron would die, myself included. He's so smarmy, scummy, and vulgar, just a generally horrible human.

But then I saw the scene where Cersei tells him she's pregnant. In that moment he looked truly joyful, and his expression and movements were tender. Suddenly I was feeling bad for him, so I couldn't kill him. Sorry!

Weirdly though, I think Euron's POV makes the scene deeper, in a way. My original Podrick's POV was feeling pretty similar to Brienne's. They generally have the same perspective about the sequence of events. They would interpret Cersei's and Jaime's words in largely the same way. They would have the same worry about being outnumbered and the same relief at the Hound's appearance. It would basically have been the same chapter with different battle details. Euron's POV allowed this chapter have a totally different emotional heart, and I'm pretty happy with that.

Sorry I used the word "cunt". It sounds like a word Euron would use, because he's a scumbag. I don't believe in calling people that.


	8. Jaime III

Jaime burst into the throne room with Brienne on his right and Podrick on his left. His eyes immediately went to Cersei, standing before the window surrounded by guards and flanked by Euron and the Mountain. Cersei's eyes traveled over the three of them, lingering on Brienne.

The corners of her mouth curled as she looked back to Jaime. "Hello, my stupid brother," she said.

Jaime spoke urgently. "Cersei. I'm begging you to surrender. No harm will come to you, I swear it on my life."

"Looks like you're outnumbered." Cersei stood regally, calm and unperturbed. "Why should I surrender to you?"

"Danaerys and the Northern soldiers are storming the city as we speak." Jaime did not know whether it was true, but he said it anyway. "Even if you kill us, they'll kill you. I'm here to save you. I'll make them promise not to harm you. We can live in the countryside and raise our child together." His gut twisted at the thought of the rest of his life, alone in the mountains, surrounded every day by her hate.

Cersei read the look on his face, and her voice and eyes laughed mockingly at him. _Damn_, Jaime thought grimly.

"And what does she have to say about that?" Cersei turned to Brienne and said simply, "You love him." For a fraction of a second, her expression was pained and puzzled as she locked eyes with him again. "I'll never understand how you came to prefer that lumbering beast of a woman."

_She's not_. . . . Jaime opened his mouth, then caught himself. Cersei's mouth curved wider, and the glittering hate settled back into her eyes. Jaime tensed, facing the hopelessness of reasoning with his enraged sister. "Cersei, please. You don't have to die. We're not here to fight you." His words sounded dull and leaden even in his own ears, and still he held his breath. Cersei's sneering eyes were locked on his wide ones. _She has all the power._

She regarded him for a long moment. Then she spoke, relishing each word. "Take my brother alive, but kill the other two."

Cold dread filled Jaime's stomach as they were surrounded by the queensguard. To his right, he saw Brienne step forward, between himself and the approaching Mountain. _He's going to kill her._ He began to instinctively step forward, then stopped himself. _She's a great fighter. I have to trust her._ He looked around and counted six guards. _If I can take three and Podrick takes three. . . ._

Footsteps echoed in the hall. To his relief, Jaime immediately recognized the familiar sound of Sandor's footsteps as he leaped into the room and growled, "Brother, time to put you out of your misery." Quickly, Jaime caught Brienne's eye and saw her flick her head towards Cersei. He gratefully nodded.

As blades and armor clashed around them, Cersei swept out of the room with her robes billowing behind her, and Jaime followed, calling after her. "Cersei stop!" He sprinted through a door, then an arch, then rounded the corner, where he abruptly froze midstep -

Jaime gasped as he looked down at the knife protruding from his side. He slowly turned his head to see Cersei, flat against the wall where she stood waiting, with a second dagger held up to his throat.

"Please, Cersei, stop the war and the madness," Jaime begged, as his blood began to drip around the knife. "Do it for our child. . . ."

"You really are the stupidest Lannister." Cersei's voice was cold. "Did you really think I would believe you? That you would live in the countryside with me, after you went north for _her_? I told you before: no one walks away from me."

"I am a Lannister," Jaime said, fighting to stay standing. "My family will always come first."

"And what do you think will happen to our child?" Cersei continued. "There is no love for the children of overthrown queens. Perhaps our baby will be murdered like my beloved Myrcella. Or made a feast for the dragon."

"No," Jaime gasped. "I'll take care of the baby. I'll protect you both."

"As you protected Myrcella." Cersei's lips curled into a sneer. "Did you know I was ready to poison Tommen, at the battle of the Blackwater? Better to die, falling gently asleep, than tortured by our enemies."

"Look how you protected Tommen," Jaime replied bitterly. "He took his own life, heartbroken. You made our Tommen a victim of your lust for power."

Cersei didn't blink, and her eyes were cruel. "I'll protect our child now, just as I'll protect you. We'll leave this world together, the way we entered it. Move!" She pushed Jaime down a stairwell, her dagger still at his throat. "We'll die together, you and me and our child. The only ones who matter!"

Cold fear flowed through Jaime as he recognized the tunnels. _The Wildfire._ "No," he repeated. "Death is not protection. Our child deserves the chance to live!" _But she doesn't intend to live_, Jaime realized. _She won't save herself, and she won't save our baby._ The hall ahead was filled with barrels.

"There is no life for us outside the throne." Cersei reached for a torch. "We'll burn them all."

Jaime's mind raced. "Then kiss me one more time," he begged. His blood pounded in his ears as Cersei stopped in her tracks. "One last kiss before we die together. You and me." His voice was soft, coaxing and pleading. "My most beloved sister. Your lips will be the last thing I taste and the last thought I hold."

Cersei turned him to face her as a slow smile spread across her face. "All right then, my dear brother," she whispered. Her dagger still held at his throat, she leaned her face towards his. She touched her lips briefly against his. She began to pull away, and he leaned after her, warmly returning the kiss. She drew closer and began to press against him.

Abruptly, Jaime's left hand flew up to grab her wrist, wrenching her arm away from his throat, twisting it behind her back and spinning her around. He wrapped his right arm around her neck as his left hand pried the dagger from her grasp. She writhed uselessly and gagged as he held her in place.

"No, my dear sister," Jaime said firmly, eyes glittering. "I'm not yours, and I'm not ready to die. I have someone else to live for."

A flicker of movement caught his eye. Jaime glanced down the dim hall and saw Qyburn, standing at the end of the hall next to the barrels, just as Cersei gasped out. "Burn them all!" Qyburn raised a torch in the air.

Jaime's eyes widened. He was too far away. "Qyburn, STOP!" he yelled as the torch descended, as if in slow motion. Cersei's cackles filled the air.

He heard a twang by his head, and suddenly Qyburn was falling backwards with an arrow in his chest and a shocked expression on his face. The torch clattered to the floor and fizzled out.

Jaime jerked around. Behind him stood Bronn with his crossbow raised. Cersei's laughter died away as Jaime stood speechless.

Bronn lowered his crossbow and grinned at Jaime. "Aren't you going to thank me?" He asked sardonically.

"What are you doing here?" Jaime finally said.

"You each promised me a castle," he answered. "I can't collect if we're all dead."


	9. Jaime IV

Jaime staggered through the halls, his left hand pressed against the knife wound in his side, his right arm braced on the walls for support. Bronn walked beside him with his crossbow loaded, leading Cersei on a rope. Every second upright was painful, but he had to get back to the throne room. _Is Brienne alive?_

They turned the corner to see Brienne running towards them. _Thank the Gods. _Relief flooded through Jaime as she sprinted towards him. He stumbled towards her and sank into her arms.

"Jaime! What's wrong?" His blood coated her hands, and her eyes widened. "You're hurt!" She exclaimed. She carefully lowered him to the floor, her expression concerned, her strong arms supporting his body just as they'd held him in the baths at Harrenhal. She peeled his hand from his right side and gasped at the wound.

"Just happy to see you one last time," Jaime said, smiling up at her and gazing into her eyes. "To say good-bye to you."

"No no no! Don't say that! We'll stop the bleeding and get you to a maester." Brienne pleaded as she held a strip of cloth pressed against the wound, trying to hold back the tears that filled her eyes. "Jaime, stay with me, do you hear? Please, fight!" Dark, red blood soaked quickly soaked the cloth. She reached under his knees, preparing to lift him.

"Brienne, wait." Jaime touched her arm to stop her, then gently covered her hand with his, caressing it with his thumb. "It's for the best," he said softly, closing his eyes. "The people of Winterfell don't want me around. Better that I disappear."

"I want you around!" Her words were choked with sorrow. She pressed her forehead against his and said, with her voice breaking, "I'll always want you around. Please, please don't leave me."

"I'll only taint you with my reputation as Kingslayer. You'll find someone whole and honorable to love."

"But I love _you_," Brienne protested, sobbing into his hair.

"Do you really mean that?" Jaime whispered.

"Yes. I swear it," she answered, her face so close that he can feel her warm breath on his lips.

"Good." Jaime sat up and grinned at her shocked expression. "I'll hold you to that promise. You're stuck with me forever. My lady." He pulled her frozen face to his and kissed her. She opened and closed her mouth, her eyes wide.

"You. . . _fucker_!" A dawning realization swept through her face.

Jaime stood up and rolled his right arm and shoulder back, nonchalantly looking at the wound. "It's deep, but it's not deadly. Cersei never did know where to stab. She preferred to use poison, or have someone else do her dirty work. Eep!" He scrambled back as Brienne rose to her full height, towering over him and looking murderous. He quickly backed away from her and into a wall. "I'm not very clever am I?"

Brienne grabbed Jaime by the breastplate and shoved him into the wall. She raised her fist to his face and growled, "No you're not! You're never clever, and you're a thoughtless arse! If you weren't injured I'd kill you." She dropped him on the ground and stormed away seething.

"Sorry!" Jaime called after her. "I love you too!" He sighed and rubbed his head. She might be mad at him for a while.

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**Author's Notes:**

Would Jaime really pull something like that? It seems a little cruel of him. He does have a penchant for drama though, riding away dramatically into the night with his black robes billowing. I don't know.


	10. Epilogue

A week passed before Brienne would speak to Jaime again, and even then, only when he brought her Dornish swordmasters and Dornish wine.

Danaerys agreed to let the North remain independent under the rule of Jon Snow, with the condition that she and Jon marry, and their children inherit rule of all Seven Kingdoms.

Tyrion continued to serve as Hand of the Queen for many years, before he was made Lord of House Lannister. He retired to Casterly Rock and founded a vineyard.

Euron remained imprisoned for three years, until Yara's leadership was well-established. Popular, respected, and secure, she allowed Euron his freedom. He eventually became her Master of Ships.

Podrick was knighted Ser Podrick for his bravery and valor during the wars. He was widely known and loved as the Bard Knight.

Bronn, the cutthroat, did become Lord of Highgarden. He married a noble lady who helped him act the part of a lord, but as time passed, he longed for adventure.

Cersei was imprisoned in a comfortable room at Casterly Rock. After she gave birth to a daughter, her room was locked with seven locks made of Valyrian steel, each key held by a different person. Her guards were Dothraki soldiers who did not speak the Common Tongue, and were replaced every week, to reduce their vulnerability to seduction.

And as for Brienne and Jaime, they adopted Cersei's daughter, Joanna, and raised her as a sister to their own. Jaime trained hard until he finally beat Brienne one day, and she finally married him under the weirwood tree, he in his red and gold armor, she in her cobalt armor. They founded a company of hedge knights, recruited Podrick and Bronn, and instilled their order with honor, integrity, and mastery of the sword. And they traveled the land together, upholding justice, defending the innocent, and battling bravely, across Westeros and beyond.

END

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**Author's Notes:**

An interesting and challenging question arises. How do we securely imprison a beautiful woman? How does one hold on to a slippery, silver-tongued, seductive snake such as Cersei? I'm reminded of The Three Musketeers, where Milady is guarded by a stoic, incorruptible guard, yet she seduces him and escapes within three days.

Or, a modern take on the same problem: Humanity has constructed a very intelligent computer who can answer our burning questions, but we don't trust that it fully understands our goals. For example, we want humans to be happy in a way that is meaningful to us, instead of, say, filling the air with dopamine-inducing drugs. If the computer gets Internet access, it can easily hack into a factory and program it to release drugs into the air.

The computer is smart enough to sweet talk any human using our darkest and deepest desires. How do we get answers from it without putting our world at risk?

The answer I've come to is not nearly strong enough for a supercomputer, but it's strong enough to hold Cersei. First, the seven-key system ensures that no one person alone can make the choice to release her. This is similar to in WW2 when two people both needed to turn keys to fire nuclear weaponry. Three of the key-holders are Jaime, Brienne, and Tyrion. The other four are secret and scattered across the kingdom. One each is chosen by Danaerys, Sansa, Yara, and Gendry Baratheon. The rulers themselves don't hold the keys (they would be obvious targets), and no one person is able to give away the locations of the others, if captured.

However, at some point more locks isn't more secure. (Personally I think three keys would have been sufficient, with one off-site, but I went with seven locks for Seven Gods.) You only need to destroy the door. The Valyrian steel should hold her for now, but as we've seen, steel can be melted. The guards can resist her wiles for now, but she may seduce someone else in the castle.

With a cunning person like Cersei, we can never be sure. Not until her dying day.

Thanks for reading!


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